Two Lips
by Predec2
Summary: Justin has a mysterious admirer. How long will it be before his identity is revealed? B/J Short Story *STORY IS NOW COMPLETE*
1. Forget Me Not

_DISCLAIMER: QAF and its characters are the sole property of Cowlip Productions and Showtime. No copyright infringement is intended._

The first one showed up on - appropriately enough - the first day of spring. And it actually _felt_ like spring that day; warm, sunny, with the promise of hope in the air, unlike how typical spring days in New York City were likely to be, ones that frequently mocked the season it was supposed to represent. This one, however, lived up to its name, and provided the inhabitants of the Big Apple with a glorious day to be outside.

And outside they were around Central Park; either riding bicycles, jogging along the roadway, hitching a ride on one of the carriages, or sitting on one of the park benches interspersed throughout the park. The trees were still barren of leaves, making it hard to imagine the shady plaza that the park would eventually become within a month or so, but just being outside under the sunshine was enough to lift everyone's spirits.

This is where Justin often came to contemplate his life. His decisions, his art, his future. Among the acres and acres of the park's boundary, he could always find a spot of solitude where he could perch, either on a bench or - when it became warmer - on the grass, sitting Indian style as he sketched from one of his books or just watched the activity around him for inspiration. He sometimes chose to observe people; other times, he preferred to hang out in a secluded area near one of the trails that wound around the outskirts of the lake, sitting quietly as turtles ventured out onto the rocks and reveled in the sun beating down upon them, finding the contrast of light and dark among the sun's rays and shadows fascinating.

So it was today that he once more had walked from the Metropolitan Museum of Art - where he was employed part time in the gift shop as a sales consultant - several blocks to the park, finding one of his favorite benches unoccupied as he sat there, his mind awhirl with all sorts of emotions. And one man in particular.

He sighed. It had been about a year since he had left Pittsburgh and the man who was constantly in his heart. He smiled wistfully. Brian had been right in a way; time really hadn't mattered as far as changing the way he felt about him. He loved him just as much - if not more - than he ever had before. And they DID see each other on occasion, at least as their schedules permitted. But with Brian committed to seeing his son more in Toronto, and Justin's art taking flight at last to where he was now showing a few pieces in a small, independent art gallery in SoHo, it made it difficult for them to uphold their promise to see each other on a frequent basis. And whenever they finally _did _see each other, and then had to say goodbye after spending the weekend together - whether here or in Pittsburgh - it always made his heart heavy, just knowing how terribly he would miss him until they could be together again.

He HAD found all kinds of inspiration for his work in New York City in the past several months; after all, with a city as diverse and alive as this one, how could one not? But his works had slowly turned more somber recently; more dramatic, more wrenching. They had always evoked emotion in the observer, but now instead of feeling brightness and light in them, instead they sensed darkness and somberness. They still sold well; but now it was a different sort of art patron who purchased them.

"God, Brian, I miss you so much," Justin whispered mournfully as he stared ahead at nothing in particular, the sun contradicting his melancholy mood. Nibbling on his thumbnail between his lips, he finally picked up his sketchbook from its place on the bench beside him, along with his graphite pencil, before rising to his feet, deciding it was time to catch the nearby subway and head down to SoHo to the gallery which held a cramped studio space in the back for his use. It was smaller than he would have liked, but it had good light, and the owner was kind enough to let him use it for free, so he really couldn't complain.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, he walked through the entrance of the studio, noticing the owner - Sylvia Swanson - standing behind her combination counter/office space located in the far corner. Sylvia was very much a 'hands-on' person, needing to stay out in the main exhibition area where she could quickly answer any inquiries should a patron express an interest in any of the works on display. Not only did it make business sense, but it also gave her a keen insight into what sort of works most appealed to her clientele. She smiled as she heard the door open, and observed one of her popular young artists walking in.

"I was hoping you would show up soon," she told him.

Justin grinned as he approached. "Why? Hungry, and thought I might bring you dinner?"

She smiled. "Well, that's always a bonus - and it never hurts to suck up to the boss."

Justin laughed, bringing his left hand out from behind his back to reveal a plain, paper bag. "You are _so _predictable, Sylvia." Walking up to her, he handed her the corn beef on rye sandwich.

"You ARE clairvoyant, and a doll!" she replied. "How much?"

Justin snickered. "Isn't that line getting old by now?" She always said that. "Take it out of my studio rent."

"But you don't PAY any studio rent."

"Exactly. Consider it my way of saying thank you, then."

She nodded affectionately at him. Not only was Justin extremely talented as an artist, but he was a genuinely nice, caring man; a young man she had quickly grown very fond of. "You spoil me. But I love it."

"I appreciate everything you do for me," he told her sincerely. His eyes settled on a large bouquet of flowers then, sitting in a crystal vase at the left end of the counter, thinking how vibrant and alive they looked, especially after the snowy and dreary winter they had just experienced. "Those are pretty," he commented with a smile. "What are they?"

"Forget-me-nots," she told him. "And I'm glad you like them. Because they belong to _you_."

He frowned. "Huh?"

She nodded. "Read the envelope."

Justin reached for the small, white envelope attached to the plastic stick nestled among the blooms and turned it over, noticing his name written there. "I guess they are," he replied in surprise. Curious, he pulled the flap open and slid the card out, noticing the name of _Bergen's Florist _imprinted on it. In small, neat letters were the words, _Hope you haven't forgotten me. I certainly haven't forgotten YOU. _There was no signature attached to it. "There's no name here," he informed Sylvia.

She smiled. "Hmm...secret admirer, Mr. Taylor? Or someone new beau I don't know about?"

Justin shrugged. "I have no idea who it's from." He eyed her wryly. "And you know better than that," he chided her. "They certainly can't be from Brian; he hates anything even remotely romantic." Although, he had to admit buying a whole house and subsequently making love to him in front of a fireplace after he had accepted his marriage proposal came pretty fucking close.

She nodded. "I remember you telling me that once. Well, it must be one of the patrons, then. I know a lot of them that seem to want to get 'up close and personal' with one artist in particular."

Justin shuddered slightly. Yes, some of the men who visited the gallery since he had begun displaying his works here seemed a lot more interested in HIM than his paintings. They seemed to find no problem with pawing him, or standing in his personal space and breathing down on his neck as they wrapped their arms around him from behind. He normally was polite with them, but on occasion he had had to resort to more direct responses, such as physically pushing them away or even giving them a good shove. Fortunately, Sylvia had a security man who worked for her when she had shows, and with Mario's burly physique and strength, no admirer and/or multi-armed octopus had been a match for him when it came to giving them a heave ho out the door as a last resort. "I guess you're right," he decided, pondering what to do with the flowers. They _were_ pretty. And it wasn't THEIR fault that the sender might be one of those leeches. And they _did_ seem to brighten up the place, and reminded him of the promise of spring. He could use a pick-me-up right about now, too.

"Well, I guess I could take them to my studio," he finally decided as he reached for the heavy, crystal vase.

Sylvia grinned at him. "Why not? I wouldn't let them go to waste."

Justin nodded. "Let me know if you need me for anything. I'm going to do some painting for a while." He practically lived at the studio instead of his tiny apartment, which he shared with three other roommates; so much so that oftentimes he stayed overnight on an inflatable mattress set up in a corner of the room. Sylvia didn't mind, and Justin actually preferred the quiet over the sometimes raucous nature of the apartment.

Giving Sylvia a smile as she began to munch on her sandwich, he carried the flowers over to the rear door, giving them a brief smell of appreciation before he opened the door and walked inside; placing the vase down on the Formica counter next to the small, stainless steel sink, he soon began resuming his work and quickly forgot about his unexpected gift.

The next day, though, it happened again. This time it was a tall, porcelain vase with an artistic, impressionistic image on it filled with Bachelor's Buttons, along with another unsigned card. This time the card said, _You don't want to be a bachelor all your life, do you?_

He furrowed his brow, trying desperately to figure out who his benefactor was. But despite the several men who had indicated an interest in him since his move here, he couldn't for the life of him think of who it could be. "I don't know whether to be flattered or concerned," he told Sylvia as she studied him.

"I'm sure it's harmless," she reassured him. "And besides, you know that Marco will kick the guy's ass if he shows up here and does anything improper."

Justin laughed. "Yeah, you have a point there." Gazing at the blue flowers, he finally did the same with them as he had with the _Forget Me Nots, _grasping the vase at the bottom and carrying it back to his studio to join the other one.

The next day, Justin groaned as he walked into the gallery and peered over at Slyvia behind the counter. "Not again," he murmured. This time, it was a dozen Irises, blue and yellow again in color like the first two bouquets had been, but these were in a tall, slender vase with a colorful, geometric pattern. Justin had to admit he did find the container's design very attractive from an artistic point of view. But he didn't need any more flowers - or cards - from whomever the sender was. "I don't believe this. This is getting ridiculous now."

"Well, he's certainly faithful," Sylvia declared. "Right on schedule. So the guy must know _something _about your work habits."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better; that he's a stalker with a regular schedule?"

"How do you know it's a guy, by the way?" Sylvia responded with a wink. "I've noticed the ladies find you quite attractive, too."

Justin pondered that for a moment as he studied the latest bouquet. "Maybe," he conceded at last. "But I don't get that vibe from this. Besides, I've made no secret that I'm gay. I haven't gone around announcing it, either, but I don't think this is from a woman."

Sylvia shrugged. "Maybe not. But I'm dying to know what this card says. Open it," she urged him.

Justin sighed as he reached for the familiar, white envelope and handed it to her. "Go right ahead, then. The thrill is long gone." In fact, he never _had_ been thrilled. Curious, yes; even a little freaked out, especially after Day 3. But NEVER thrilled.

Sylvia grinned as she slid the card out from the envelope and scanned the message before laughing. "Well, whoever he is, he'd better not give up his day job. He's certainly no poet." She read the words out loud. "_Iris I was with you right now."_

"Cute," Justin muttered; not sure whether to be amused or not. He shook his head in frustration. "I'm quickly running out of room for this fucking florist shop. Why don't YOU keep this one? Or better yet, just take them home with you tonight."

"Well, I always loved Irises. Are you sure?"

"God, yes. Please take them with you."

She nodded then as Justin sighed in relief. "Well, at the very least keep the card for sentimental purposes. You can put it in your scrapbook, along with the others," she teased him.

Justin snorted. "Very funny. More like the scrap HEAP." Nevertheless, he took the proffered card from her and slipped it into his jacket pocket, deciding that maybe it might be a good idea to keep it. _Who knows?_ He thought. He might need it for evidence. Evidence of what, he wasn't sure. He couldn't accuse someone of being a stalker if he didn't know who it was, and the florist shop had been tight lipped about it, explaining that they kept their customers' names strictly confidential when requested. And, of course, this sender had made it quite clear he didn't want his identity revealed. Maybe he might wind up being overcome by flower pollen, though; it would serve the person right. Fortunately, flower pollen wasn't one of his various allergies, though. But after all this, he could definitely see him developing one.

"I'll be in the back if you need me," he told Sylvia before, with one last look at the "Flower of the Day," he turned and headed back to his studio. He was already feeling extremely glum, since he had not spoken with Brian in a couple of days. According to Cynthia, he was out of town and deeply involved with a new marketing campaign, so much so that he and his promotion team were working upwards of 20 hours a day, leaving precious little time for telephone conversations. Apart from occasional texts from Brian to reassure him that he was still alive and breathing - along with a few, cryptic texts - he had not heard his voice recently, and he missed that terribly. Hearing his lover's voice was a mixture of both joy and anguish; joy over hearing him speak - which was the sweetest sound in the world to him - and anguish over not being able to touch him, to hold him, to wake up with him and go to sleep with him, cradled in his strong, protective arms. His eyes glistening with unshed tears as he thought about all their moments together - and his body physically aching for his lover's embrace - he forced himself to focus instead on the task at hand, a partially finished work commissioned by a client, hoping it would at least temporarily distract him from his heartache.

The next day, where he normally felt happiness - or at least peace - when he arrived at the gallery, today he only felt trepidation as he swung the door open and immediately looked over at the counter. His eyes widened in pleased satisfaction: at last, no flowers. "Thank God!" he exclaimed with a smile. "He's finally given up."

"I'm actually kind of disappointed," Sylvia admitted; watering can in hand, she was tending to one of the large floor plants over by the window. "I was beginning to look forward to what sort of creativity he would come up with next."

Justin eyed her with disbelief. "Sylvia! The man was a stalker! At the very least, some sort of flower freak, anyway."

She peered over at him with a grin. "Well, yeah, I guess. But I think it's kind of sweet; unrequited love and all. I mean, we already know that no one else could take a certain man's place, right?"

Justin's face blushed; he had told her about Brian on more than one occasion, enough for her to be able to tell how deeply he loved him, so he didn't have to say anything. And whenever Brian would visit her gallery, she always told him how obvious it was by the look on Brian's face that the feeling was mutual.

"Sweet?" He rolled his eyes. "That's not what I would call it. I'm just glad he's finally given up." He looked up at the sound of the front door opening then, however, and his face fell. "Oh, no." Apparently the florist had been running late today, because here was their delivery guy, this time carrying a squat, black opalescent vase containing another type of blue flower with yellow centers, just like all the others had been.

The man in blue pants and a white shirt with the florist's logo on it grinned as he walked over to them; he was beginning to think this might turn out to be a year-long event. "Sorry, we had a lot of deliveries today for some reason," he explained as if they had asked him where he had been. He peered over thoughtfully at Justin. "I take it you're the lucky recipient?" he asked with a smirk. "You've certainly caught _someone's_ eye."

"Not intentionally," Justin muttered. "You can burn them for all I care."

The man's brows rose in surprise; apparently this guy wasn't exactly happy to be the recipient of so much attention. "Sorry; I could get in trouble if I don't deliver them as ordered," he told him as he placed the fringed flowers down on the counter. He looked curiously over at Justin, who shook his head.

"Don't expect me to tip you for bringing those," Justin warned him. "I didn't ask for them, and I don't want them."

The man grinned. "Don't need one. The sender's already included it."

Justin was almost afraid to ask, but he couldn't help it. "For how long?"

The delivery man shrugged. "I don't know. As long as I keep getting tipped by the store, though, and get instructions to bring them here, I'll keep delivering them. But at the rate _this _is going, I can probably afford a nice steak dinner by the end of the week."

"Good for you," Justin told him with irritation; the man seemed way too chipper to him. "Well, you've done your duty_, Dudley DoRight_, so you can just go now."

The man had the gall to chuckle as he gave Justin a tip of his invisible cap before turning and heading toward the entrance. "Enjoy! And see you tomorrow!" he called out as Justin seriously considered throwing the vase of flowers at him, but he had already escaped out the door.

Justin exhaled a deep breath to try and take some of the tension away. "This can't go on," he complained. "The next time that fucking delivery man comes in, throw the damn things in the garbage! And don't even open the envelope. I'm done." Before Sylvia could even respond, he turned and headed purposefully toward the rear door to his studio.

"But the card! Don't you want to read it?"

Justin turned around to snort. "Why _would_ I? Do what you want with it."

Sylvia sighed as Justin disappeared. Her romantic side warred with her young friend's uneasiness over who this sender might be, but at last her curiosity won out as she gazed at the flowers. She wasn't sure which type they were this time, but they were lovely. Finally, she slipped open the envelope and slid the card out to read it: _I feel extreme passion for you. _A few moments on the internet, and her guess was confirmed - they were passion flowers. "Well, he's definitely creative," she murmured, before laying the card down on the counter. Giving the dozen flowers a brief smell and intrigued by their delicate scent, she placed the vase down on the floor, out of sight, deciding to take those home as well. No sense in throwing them out.


	2. Red as a Rose

_Justin finally has a confrontation with his admirer - or does he? _

The next day, Justin no longer even felt dread about the latest delivery; he had come to expect it by now, so in a way he wasn't as anxious about it, more like resigned to his fate. So he was getting flowers by the truckload, and this guy was apparently smitten with him. As long as he didn't do anything further to contact him, he could just ignore the guy, along with the schmaltzy cards. Sylvia seemed captivated by the various varieties of flowers, however, so he let her keep taking them home with her. That was more than fine with him.

As he entered the gallery, however, and he peered over at Sylvia's work area, his heart beat furiously and he stopped dead in his tracks as he noticed a tall, distinguished-looking man leaning silently on the counter, holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand, wrapped in the typical cellophane packaging. He recognized the flower this time: carnations. _Blue and yellow carnations_. So this was the guy. Well, he had stepped over the boundary now. This man was NOT going to get to him. Nor was he going to go easy on him. He was tired of this charade.

The man turned around at the sound of the door opening and smiled politely at Justin, who frowned slightly and glowered back at him, realizing the man _did_ look familiar. So he WAS one of the patrons of the gallery! Sylvia apparently had been right. That was where they had met.

Before the man could say anything, Justin rushed up to him with righteous fury. "You have to stop this!" he growled at him, staying back far enough that the man couldn't make any sudden moves. Thoughts of countless men pawing at him with unwelcome advances, or outright leering at him during exhibitions of his work flashed through his mind as the man opened his mouth to reply, a look of shock on his face over Justin's outburst.

"Don't say anything!" Justin snapped as the man closed his mouth back up, a confused look on his face. _Was this man dense? _ "Listen, I have a _partner_! I'm _involved_ with someone! I don't _want_ any more of your damn flowers! Don't send me any more of them, and DON'T ever come back here again, do you understand?" Snatching the flowers out of the man's hand, he threw them into the nearby garbage can for emphasis, breathing heavily and his face red with anger. "Now get out, before I call the police!" he warned him, his blue eyes flashing in fury.

But the man furrowed his brow as if Justin had lost his mind as he stood up straighter, finally seizing an opportunity to speak as Justin took a breath. When he did, it was with a distinct French accent, giving Justin a definite sense of déjà vu as his mind furiously searched for when and how he knew him. "What did you do THAT for? I don't know what your problem is..." the stranger began, clearly indignant.

Justin glared at him. He certainly had a LOT of nerve; HE was the one being harassed. Of course, it WOULD take a lot of nerve to just show up out of the blue, and think he would rush into his arms and proclaim his love for him...

"I'll TELL you what my problem is!" he interrupted the taller man as he reached to grab the guy's wrist, preparing to try and forcibly remove him if he had to, even though the man clearly outweighed him. But he figured if adrenalin could help someone lift a car off someone else, he hoped it would help him throw the guy out...

"JUSTIN!"

Justin jumped back, startled, as he heard Sylvia's voice boom from behind him as she returned from the back room.

"No!" she exclaimed in shock. "That's _not_ him!" She rushed up to the two men, grabbing her young friend's arm and placing herself in between them to keep them separated from each other. Taking a deep breath, she turned to the perturbed stranger with a smile to assure him, "I can explain."

Justin peered over at her in disbelief. "What are you DOING?"

She took a deep breath before she replied quietly, "Justin...you remember Phillippe? My..._husband_?"

And suddenly he knew why the man appeared familiar; he DID remember him from one of his exhibitions here at the gallery a few months ago. Sylvia had made a point of introducing them, since as a software consultant for numerous overseas companies, he did a great deal of traveling. So when he was finally available to visit the gallery one evening during a display of his work, along with some up-and-coming artists, she had made a point of introducing him.

Justin covered his eyes with his hands briefly, his face turning red with embarrassment. "Oh, shit."

Sylvia laughed as she realized he now knew he had made a big mistake. "Today's our anniversary," she explained, "and Phillippe is here to take me out to dinner to celebrate."

Her husband peered over at him warily, still a little miffed as he turned to gingerly retrieve the flowers from the garbage can. Fortunately, since they had been wrapped in cellophane, they were still in fairly decent shape. "These WERE for you," he said a little coolly as he glanced over at a clearly mortified Justin.

Sylvia burst out laughing as she surmised what had happened. "Thank you, Sweetheart. You remembered my favorites." She grinned over at Justin, seeming to enjoy his discomfiture, as she leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. "Don't worry about it," she whispered in his ear with a wink. "I'll explain it to him."

"I am SO sorry," Justin murmured at Philippe. He sighed, feeling extremely awkward as he brushed his left hand restlessly through his hair.

Sylvia slid her arm soothingly around Philippe's waist. "Let's go to dinner, and I'll tell you all about it. Believe it or not, there's a rational explanation for all this." Her husband didn't appear too convinced, however, as she turned to Justin to ask, "Would you mind keeping an eye on things while I'm gone? We shouldn't be more than a couple of hours."

Justin could only nod his head, still trying to come to grips with what he had just done. Giving him a slight smile of reassurance, Sylvia hooked her arm around her husband's and led him over to the door, still holding the bouquet in her hand. He sighed heavily in relief as he slumped down onto one of the armchairs interspersed throughout the small gallery as the couple left. "Fuck," he muttered as he sat there, mentally exhausted. The room was blissfully without any patrons at the moment, providing him with a few minutes of much-desire quiet as he tried to calm his nerves. Silence had never sounded so wonderful - or been as needed.

After a few minutes of gathering up his energy, he began to rise, thinking he might finally be spared another flower delivery - and that perhaps his would-be suitor had finally given up, since the hour was later than the delivery man would normally arrive. As he glanced over at Sylvia's work area, however, his eyes were immediately drawn to some flowers presently standing in a tall, 3-foot vase by her chair; Sylvia must have placed them back there when they had been delivered. These weren't small or delicate, lacy flowers this time like the others had been, and they weren't the customary blue-with-yellow-centered ones he had been receiving every day, either; these were totally different. _Sunflowers. _

He pondered that fact as he slowly walked over to them. No one here in New York knew his nickname, the one that Debbie had decided would be his to keep from the first moment they had met at the diner, and the one that everybody used so much it easily fell from their lips as if it were his birth name. The overzealous admirer couldn't possibly know about that. So was this just a coincidence? As he studied them, he decided it had to be. Brian would never do this sort of thing. He guessed the guy must have just run out of ideas for the blue-on-yellow theme, which he assumed had to be a vague reference to his blond hair and blue eyes, so he had to find some other type of yellow flower.

He couldn't resist this time as he pulled the card out from between two of the large flowers to open it up. _Your smile is like this flower- bright and sunny,_ it said. He snorted; how hokey could you get? Well, it just had to be one of those eerie coincidences. The trouble was, though, it DID remind him of his nickname, which in turn reminded him of Brian, who he still hadn't spoken to all week; every time he tried, the phone went right to voicemail. "Damn it!" he cursed under his breath. He felt utterly frustrated; how could he fight someone he didn't even know? Not even bothering to touch the flowers, he turned and stomped back to the rear of the building, feeling decidedly like someone in a _Groundhog Day_ movie. Would it never end?

* * *

_The Next Morning..._

_Six days_. Six days of being showered with flowers he didn't want, and six days of not speaking to Brian. His partner could always calm his worries and make him feel better.

But finally this morning, he had succeeded in reaching him - and hearing his voice. His heart immediately rejoiced by beating ridiculously fast like a baby bird when his lover actually answered the phone with his customary, nonchalant greeting. "Hey."

Justin almost missed it, having figured he would once more reach his voicemail, and there would be a short text from Brian acknowledging it afterward, so it took him a few seconds to respond. "Hey! So you ARE still alive."

He could almost hear the smile on the other end as Brian replied, "Alive and kicking, Sunshine. And a lot richer, too; all my team's hard work paid off. The client signed with us this morning."

Justin smiled, happy for his partner. "That's great! But not a surprise. Just shows how smart the guy is."

"That's true enough." Brian replied smugly in his customary style. He paused for a moment, noticing his lover was uncharacteristically quiet. Normally that sort of statement would at least garner some sort of reaction - either a snort over his arrogance, or a laugh. "You're not pissed at me, are you? I really WAS working practically 24/7 for the past few days."

Justin sighed. "No, I'm not mad. I'm...just glad to finally hear your voice, that's all."

"Well, it IS an honor to talk to me, I know."

"Shut up!" At last Justin laughed.

"Seriously, though, Justin. You're being awfully quiet for someone who hasn't spoken to me in several days. Normally I can't get you to shut your mouth...unless it's preoccupied with eating - or something else."

Justin bit back a groan at the image in his head. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Talk about _that._ Fuck, Brian, when can you come back here? I miss you."

He could hear Brian's slightly wheezy breathing on the other end for a few moments before his partner admitted softly, "I miss you, too." He sighed. "But we just got this new account, and it's a huge one. It'll require a lot of work, Sunshine," he explained regretfully. He paused. "But you're dodging my question; I can hear it in your voice. What's going on? Is something wrong?" The concern was obvious in his voice, which made Justin feel good for some reason. He opened his mouth, prepared to tell him all about the weirdo who had been sending him the flowers, but he hesitated. He knew if he told Brian, despite his mantra about not 'doing jealousy,' he would be on the first available flight to New York City. But if Brian really _was_ as busy as he said, was it fair of him to place that burden on him? As badly as he wanted to see his partner - and it was bordering on desperation now - he still wouldn't be the cause of his lover possibly jeopardizing his newest account, which by all indications was a very lucrative one. Besides, the guy hadn't done anything else except overwhelm him with flowers and send him schmaltzy notes of admiration. And there was Marco, too, who lived nearby and could be at the gallery in practically a moment's notice.

So instead of pouring out his heart to his lover, he answered as reassuringly as possible, "No, I'm fine. Just a little tired from working on a painting. One of Sylvia's clients commissioned it especially with the condition that I be the artist, and he put a rush on it by paying extra, so I've been working on it several hours a day. There'll be a hefty bonus if I complete it on time."

"You're also working at the museum," Brian pointed out. "Are you sure you're getting enough sleep, Justin? A sleepy artist isn't a very productive artist."

Justin smiled over his partner's comment, and his concern. "I have that airbed at the studio, remember? I should be done with it sometime today, anyway, so don't worry. I'll get some extra shuteye then."

"Promise."

"I promise," Justin replied softly. "Now I want YOU to promise me something."

There was a brief pause. "Promise you what?"

"That you will hop on a plane as soon as you get a break in your workload there, and come here to see me. I would come there, but..."

"It's okay, Sunshine. I think that's a promise I can keep. Phone sex is just not the same."

Justin smiled wistfully. "No. So is that the _only_ reason you want to see me? Because I give the best head?" He knew that Brian had cut down dramatically on the amount of tricking he was doing in his absence; at least, if the observations from Emmett were any indication. He spoke fairly often with him on the phone, and his friend had informed him that Brian oftentimes wouldn't even head into the backroom at Babylon; in fact, he only visited his newest 'toy' every once in a while; not nearly the same frequency as before. Truth be told, Justin noticed he had begun to cut down even _before_ he had left town.

"You know it's not," was the quiet response as he turned his attention back to the present. "Not that the mind-blowing sex isn't a nice bonus, though."

Justin knew his lover was no doubt smirking right now as he laughed in response. "Well, I'll keep myself all limbered up so you can indulge yourself right away the next time you're here. And that would be...?"

Brian chuckled. "Okay, okay. Soon. I promise. Very soon," he added, his voice softer now.

"Well, I know you're a man of your word, Brian Kinney. So I'm holding you to that promise. I'll be looking forward to it." _You don't know how much..._

"So will I, Sunshine. Now...until then, what was that you said about giving good head?"

* * *

_Later that Day..._

As Justin almost robotically entered the gallery this time, he did not notice any flowers. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. He refused to get his hopes up, however; not after the delivery man had been running late that one time. Peering over at Sylvia, he brushed his hand through his hair as he walked up to her.

"Sylvia...I'm so sorry about what happened yesterday. I didn't realize who it was at first...and when I saw those blue and yellow carnations..."

She laughed. "Don't worry about it. Once I explained it all to Philippe, he actually thought it was funny. He _did _say you were on the feisty side, though. But he understood. And it sure made our anniversary stand out this year." Her eyes twinkled as Justin groaned in reaction.

"I feel so ridiculous, though! I really thought it was him."

"I know." She gazed over at the barren-looking counter as she commented, "It looks so empty right now," she lamented. She had been enjoying the variety of flowers that Justin had been receiving, finding it a welcome sight after the long, dreary winter. The last few days had been gray and cloudy, and even though the first day of spring had been delightful, it had taken a turn toward colder temperatures since then, and the flowers had definitely brightened up the place.

"Well, it's fine with me!" Justin replied firmly. "But I'll believe it when I DON'T see it. Maybe it's another banner day for flower deliveries again, or he got stuck in traffic somewhere."

But Sylvia smiled at him as she shook her head. "No to both."

Justin frowned, wondering what the look on her face meant. "What do you mean?"

"Today's the last delivery," she told him mysteriously. "And since it's the last one, the guy decided to save the best for last...and deliver it in person."

Justin looked around, his heart beating furiously in anxiety. Had he heard her right? "I don't see anyone," he told her, thinking that all the flower pollen must have gone to her head.

"Oh, he's here," she told him. She cocked her head sideways. "He's waiting for you back in your studio right now."

Justin's eyes threatened to bulge out of his head. "What?! Are you crazy? You don't know anything _about_ this guy!"

She smiled even more as she replied, "As a matter of fact, I do. I recognized him right away."

Justin's pulse accelerated. "Who is it, then? One of your buyers? And why in the hell would you let him back _there_? We don't know what he's capable of! Are you out of your mind? He could ruin my painting! We have him trapped back there, and you know who he is! Call the fucking _police_! I'M not going back there!" He vowed. He couldn't believe it. Whose side was she on?

"Justin, calm down," she told him soothingly as soon as she could get a word in edgewise. "Trust me. It's okay. Just go talk to him. He's not going to hurt you."

Blue eyes flashed in astonishment. "I can't believe this! How do YOU know? Who IS this guy? And why are you taking his side? Is he some big shot client or something, and you're afraid you'll lose his business?"

Sylvia sighed heavily. "You know I don't work that way. Would I let anything happen to you, Justin? Just go find out. It will be okay. I promise."

Still thinking Sylvia had ingested something foreign to her, Justin took a deep breath as he turned and slowly walked toward the rear of the gallery. "If you hear me yelling or screaming," he told her as he briefly turned around to glare over at her, "promise me you will call the police. And Marco."

To his utter astonishment, Sylvia had the nerve to laugh at his concern as she replied, "Don't worry. Now _go_!"

Slowly Justin turned around and turned the door's handle to hesitantly walk inside, not noticing Sylvia quietly picking up her purse and heading toward the door, turning the 'open' sign around to say 'closed.' She waited until she was certain Justin wouldn't see her before softly opening the door and closing it, taking a moment to smile in satisfaction before locking the door behind her.


	3. Tulips

_Justin's 'flowery' admirer is finally revealed. What other surprises will await them?_

Justin jumped slightly as the door closed behind him, almost as if a gust of wind had caught it. He apprehensively surveyed the familiar surroundings. Everything seemed normal in the alcove area that served as a compact break room, consisting of a miniature fridge and a microwave; a small, round table with two chairs sat nearby with a coffeemaker that did double duty as a hot water maker for tea. Nothing seemed remiss or out of place, and not a sound could be heard except for the soft ticking of the clock over the tiny sink. The door leading to his rear studio was presently closed, making him wary. He had hoped at least that it would be partially open, providing him with a glimpse of who was waiting inside before he was detected. But it was firmly closed. Was the guy trying to hide on purpose?

He paused, wondering if he had lost his mind by even agreeing to meet this man. But he was tired of this game; tired of the constant worrying about who this person was, and what he wanted from him. He had no idea why Sylvia trusted this guy so much, but she _had _said that she knew him and that he had nothing to worry about. "Easy for YOU to say," he muttered softly as he studied the closed door. He wished for once that he could be Superman with x-ray vision, so he could see who was on the other side. But this wasn't Metropolis, and he was certainly no Superman or even JT. Taking a deep breath of resolve, then, he walked quietly over to the door and turned the knob, the cold metal sending a chill through his body. Or was it due to the unknown person waiting for him? Trying to be as quiet as he could - and thankful that there was no creaking noise or any other indication to his visitor of his appearance - he licked his lips nervously before opening the door slightly and peeking inside.

The first thing he noticed when he entered the studio was how the sun was presently flooding the room with the last rays of sunlight; that was one of the features of his makeshift studio that he particularly appreciated. That thought was immediately banished from his mind, however, as he observed a tall man standing near the window with his back to him. He could see him turn slightly as he opened the door and left it open for his own security; apparently he hadn't been as quiet as he had thought. But as his brain registered at last who it was, his apprehension vanished like dandelions blowing in the wind, and his heart soared into the hemisphere; he would know that man anywhere, even in an inky, visionless cave.

"Brian?" he whispered as his lover turned all the way around and smiled at him softly; he was clutching a dozen yellow tulips in his hands as he gazed back at him. Justin blinked. _Please don't let this be a mirage..._

"Hey, Sunshine," the man murmured then, and Justin knew then that it was not his imagination. No, his partner was here in the flesh. And what glorious flesh it was. Even dressed in casual clothes of a leather jacket, black shirt, and well-worn jeans, Justin was unable to take his eyes off him, even though thoughts of killing him were presently running through his mind, also, now that his mysterious suitor had finally been revealed to him. Brian rolled his tongue into his cheek as he asked, "You didn't forget me...did you?"

Justin huffed as he walked toward him. "Yeah, I forgot you the instant we stopped talking this morning." He paused. "And don't _Sunshine_ me, you asshole! Why didn't you just TELL me you were here when I talked with you? AND asked you to come see me?"

"Now what would have been the fun in that?" Brian replied with a crooked grin. He shrugged. "I was in Chicago, and you were logistically located between there and the Pitts."

"I see. So I'm some sort of convenience now?" his partner groused.

"Come on, Justin; you know better than that," Brian protested. "I didn't mean it that way. I just meant that..."

"I know what you meant," Justin assured him, his voice a little more conciliatory, noticing a look of relief appear on Brian's face. "So just when did you plan this trip?"

"About the same time Cynthia made my flight arrangements last week," he admitted. "You didn't really think I would miss a chance to come and see you, did you?" he asked, his eyes boring into his lover's as he reached his free hand out toward him. But Justin moved back to stay just out of reach. "Justin..."

His partner scowled over at him as Brian lifted his eyebrows in reaction with a sort of '_who...me?"_ look and he sighed in resignation; he never _was_ good at staying mad at his partner for long, especially when he used that certain tone of voice to say his name, and stared over at him with that '_little boy lost'_ expression. "I should kill you, you know," he muttered as he shook his head in disbelief, still finding it hard to comprehend that Brian was actually standing a few feet away from him - and that this avowed detester of romanticism had been sending him _flowers _all week long. He exhaled a deep breath as Brian curled his lips under with a smile, an endearing quality that he knew Justin couldn't resist. His partner surmised he had won this round. _Damn the man_. "...But I think I'll wait until after we've had our makeup sex to do that."

Brian smiled broadly then, realizing he had been forgiven. "Smart man," he agreed solemnly. More emboldened now - and sure his partner wouldn't make good on his threat to cause him bodily harm - he moved even closer until he was a hairsbreadth away, tentatively holding out the tulips toward him. "This is my last flower delivery - tulips."

Justin could smell the scent of the yellow bulbs as he cocked an eyebrow upward in question. "Tulips?" He wrinkled his nose as he suddenly sneezed. "At the risk of sounding ungrateful, they don't smell all that great."

"I didn't buy these because of the smell." He walked even closer.

"I kind of figured that," Justin replied dryly. "It's because they're _sunshiny_ _yellow_," he quipped, emphasizing the 'sunshiny yellow' part. He had seen enough yellow in the past week to last a lifetime.

But to his surprise, Brian shook his head. "Not exactly."

"Then why?" he asked. "Run out of any more blue and yellow flower combinations?"

"No." Brian rolled his eyes. "Do I have to explain it to you..._Sunshine_?" He quipped. "Maybe you're not as smart as I thought." Justin smacked him on the chest as he repeated slowly, "Tulips," elongating the two syllables. But Justin simply looked at him as if he had some speech impediment. "As in _two lips_ \- the mouth I can't ever seem to stop kissing."

Justin's heart threatened to explode over that statement, but he furrowed his brow in suspicion, checking Brian's pupils for any dilation; he did not see anything outwardly remiss, though. "Are you sick?" he asked, placing the palm of his right hand against Brian's forehead. "I don't think you're hot."

"Very funny. And, hey, you _used _to say that I was hot."

Justin snorted. "That's not what I meant, and you know it!" he retorted, earning a crooked grin in return. He sighed. "Well, if you're not sick, then you must high."

Brian paused, feeling a little awkward as he thought of another time when he had acted much like this; the day he had proposed to the love of his life at Britin, and the day he had told him he had bought a grandiose house '_for his prince_.' He wasn't very comfortable with such overt expressions, much less stating them out loud, but he was slowly adapting - all due to this man standing in front of him. He took a deep breath and let it out before replying quietly, "Only high on _you_," as Justin blushed deeply in reaction.

"Brian..." he whispered, his eyes watering. "That's...that's about the most ro..."

"Don't you dare say it!" he warned him as his lover grinned. Brian shook his head slightly as he stared into his partner's glistening, blue eyes. "Damn, I've missed you so much," he growled before he dropped the flowers onto the slightly scuffed wooden floor and pulled Justin into his arms, capturing the soft lips with his own as they began to kiss hungrily. The little, breathy sounds Justin was making as they kissed was like music to Brian's ears as he wrapped his arms tightly around the slender body to pull him even closer, sliding his hands under the hem of Justin's shirt to feel the smooth expanse of warm skin underneath.

He moaned slightly at the initial body-to-body contact, inhaling the familiar scent of his partner's shampoo, soap, and just _him; _the scent that he could never get enough of. "Justin," he whispered as they finally broke apart; placing his hands on either side of his partner's face, he lightly brushed his thumbs across Justin's cheeks before Justin began to nuzzle his neck with licks and slight nips of his skin, right where Brian was the most sensitive. Only HE knew this was one of his most sensitive erogenous zones. As Brian's desire flared, his eyes searched the room urgently as his body went on full alert - knowing there was no way he could wait to have him until they reached his hotel suite. Remembering the airbed nestled snugly against the far wall, he blessed his partner's inventiveness as he whispered hoarsely, "bed," while Justin continued to pepper his neck and collar bone with kisses, his lips warm and soft. "Fuck, Justin! No time," he said a little more urgently as his lover ignored him, his hands reaching between them to shrug Brian's jacket from his shoulders before he began to unbutton his shirt. "Justin, stop!" he said a little louder, gripping the wandering hands with his own.

Finally, Justin reluctantly pulled back to gaze into his partner's darkened eyes, flushing at the deep color indicating Brian's passion, and feeling so powerful knowing that he had put it there. He nodded in understanding as Brian pecked him on the lips before he began to determinedly walk him back toward the airbed, both men hurriedly removing clothes as they went and leaving a scattered pile on the floor of pants, shirts, briefs, and socks, until they were fully naked by the time the back of Justin's legs bumped into the bed.

Pressing Justin down onto the mattress as they continued to kiss, Brian draped himself over the smaller body as he rose up on his elbows to stare into the deep blue eyes. "Condom," he said urgently, realizing his pants had been discarded several yards away.

Justin giggled. "Sorry, I don't have any hiding in my body cavities."

Brian groaned as his lover mischievously grabbed ahold of his now fully hard cock and gave it a playful squeeze.

"Justin! Fuck! Are you trying to kill me here?" he pulled his partner's hand away as he hurriedly rose from the bed, rushing over to snatch his pants up off the floor, just long enough to grab several condoms and a small tube of lube. He was back and looming over his lover in record time as he threw all but one of the condoms down onto the airbed and tore the package open. Taking just a few seconds to retrieve the latex, he slid it down his cock, slathering some of the lube onto his shaft and then preparing Justin with his fingers.

"Brian," Justin panted as something occurred to him. "Sylvia." Normally he didn't mind being a bit of an exhibitionist with Brian - it was hot in a way to risk being detected - but at the same time, he wasn't sure Sylvia would be too thrilled with walking into his studio and finding him and Brian bare naked and fucking. He moaned as he felt first one finger, and then another slide into his tight opening. "Uhhh..."

"It's okay, Sunshine," Brian grunted as he slipped another finger in. "She's told me she was closing up shop and leaving early. We're here alone."

Justin's eyes widened in surprise, whimpering as Brian began to finger fuck him in earnest; he pressed down to heighten his pleasure. "In that case...God, fuck me!" he demanded.

Brian chuckled. "That's more like it." He slid his fingers out as his lover grunted in disappointment; but he knew within seconds his reaction would be quite different. His legs folded underneath him, he rose up just enough to line his cock up before pressing partially inside, Justin's legs rising to hook behind his back.

Justin winced slightly at the initial intrusion; by now, he knew it was to be expected, but the burn was still a little uncomfortable. He stared deeply into Brian's eyes, now almost inky black with lust, knowing that soon his body would be overwhelmed with pleasure instead.

"Always so tight," Brian marveled breathlessly as he pressed in deeply, all the way until they were skin against skin. "So good..." He paused to dip down and kiss Justin's lips greedily.

"Brian, move," Justin quietly commanded urgently a few seconds later as they broke off their kiss. Brian nodded, pulling back out almost all the way before thrusting forcefully back in, balls deep, as Justin moaned and called out his name again. "More. I want more," Justin demanded huskily, his fingers digging into the firm flesh of Brian's biceps.

Issuing some sort of guttural growl, Brian then began a steady rhythm, pushing in and pushing out of his partner's body in their long-time, familiar dance of love. Frequently leaning down to kiss, the two knew each motion now by heart, and the perfect way to rock and flex their bodies to provide each with the ultimate in pleasure.

"Close..." Justin managed to whisper as Brian sped up his motion. "God..." he groaned, squeezing his eyes closed; his fingers gripping Brian's skin fiercely. He could feel his body tightening up like a coiling snake as he reached down with one hand to grip his cock and begin to stroke it in rhythm with Brian's movements, feeling one of Brian's hands reach down and place his hand over his to join in. It only took a few moments more before Justin erupted, spilling into both their hands and all over their bodies. He clenched his muscles hard around his lover as Brian groaned out Justin's name and pumped a few more times before he, too, climaxed, collapsing, spent and sweaty, on top of his partner. He lay there as Justin slowly stroked the sweaty skin of his back, his head nestled in the crook of Justin's neck.

Slowly, after a short time, he lifted his head to gaze into Justin's face, beaded with sweat from their exertion. Justin sleepily stared into his eyes and rewarded him with a loving smile as he reached to tenderly brush some sweaty hair away from his face, just cherishing the feeling of his partner's warm body cushioned under his. This - this was where he belonged, where he felt safest and loved; here in Justin's arms.

Reluctantly, he finally pulled out to tie the condom off, hearing Justin sigh in disappointment. "If I could stay inside you forever, I would," he whispered in his ear before flopping over onto his back. Tossing the condom into a nearby garbage by the side of his bed, he rose to walk over to the small sink, waiting just long enough for the water to heat up before grabbing a cloth nearby to wet it and return to the bed. Justin's eyes never left his as he proceeded to gently clean him off, his chest still heaving until his breathing slowly returned to normal from its previous orgasmic high. His body was flushed with a faint shade of pink, and his lips were bruised from all their kisses. His hair lay askew on top of the pillow, and a fine sheen of sweat was painted on his skin as he gazed up at his lover through lazily blinking eyes, causing Brian's heart to flutter in his chest. He thought Justin had never looked more beautiful.

"What?" Brian asked softly as he discarded the cloth into the garbage can, noticing the intense look on Justin's face.

Justin shook his head in reassurance as Brian reached to intertwine his fingers with his on the mattress as he lay on his back next to him. "Nothing. I...just can't believe you're here. I thought this would be a shitty day, but all of a sudden it's just the opposite. If you only knew," he added mysteriously as Brian arched an eyebrow in question. He smiled before admitting, "Do you know I almost attacked Sylvia's husband?"

Brian laughed. "Philippe? The French guy? He wouldn't hurt a fly."

"You remember him?" Justin harrumphed. "Figures YOU would."

"Hey, what's _that_ supposed to mean?" Brian groused. "I'm in advertising, remember? It's my _job_ to remember names and faces."

Justin sighed as he related what had happened with the flowers. "It's NOT funny, Brian!" he growled a minute later when his partner burst out laughing. "It's YOUR fault in the first place!"

Brian placed his hand on his lover's hip as he turned on his side to face him. "So you're saying you didn't want the flowers?" he asked softly.

"Well, not when I thought it was some overzealous patron stalking me," Justin explained. "Although making YOU jealous might have been worth it," he added with a crooked grin.

His lover huffed with an obligatory _I don't DO jealous _sound. But both of them knew that was a lie merely to maintain his 'image.' Brian snorted as if in disbelief. "You mean I did all that rom...uh, _soppy_ shit for nothing?"

Justin smiled as he gazed into his eyes. "No," he told him softly. "Now that I know they were from _you..._that means the world to me." He paused as Brian averted his eyes as if he were embarrassed. He dreaded asking his next question, but he needed to know, even though he knew the old, familiar pain would flare up again - the pain he always felt whenever they were separated. He took a deep breath, slowly drawing circles on Brian's shoulder. "When...do you have to leave?" he finally asked quietly.

Brian slowly lifted his eyes to peer over at him. "In a few days," he told him quietly. He, too, detested that moment when they said goodbye. He had detested it ever since they had first said their goodbyes in his loft before Justin had left to come here. And he would _always_ hate it whenever they had to say it. _Damn it. _

Justin nodded, fighting to blink back the tears that threatened to develop. He would not do that to Brian. He knew that he felt just as awful about their goodbyes as he did. Not for the first time, he briefly wondered the sense of coming here at all; of remaining here where he couldn't be with the man he loved on a more regular basis. But he knew - at least for now - that this was where he needed to be. And as the head of one of the most successful advertising agencies in Pittsburgh, he knew that Brian was where he needed to be, also. That didn't make it any less painful, though. The only thing that continued to sustain him was the knowledge that one day, one wonderful day, the two of them would finally be together permanently again. He had no doubt of that. "Well, we'd better make the most of it, then, hadn't we?" he finally replied, choosing to enjoy their moments now, instead of looking into the future when Brian would be leaving him again. "I trust you came well prepared."

Brian smirked, relieved that Justin hadn't spoken aloud the very thoughts that he was currently feeling, and loving him all the more for knowing it would only make him feel even worse when they DID have to say goodbye. "Well, give me a little time, and I'll show you just how prepared I _am_," he told him.

Justin blushed. "I'll be looking forward to that. Sure you brought enough?"

Brian replied truthfully, "When it comes to visiting YOU, there's probably never enough. But I have more in my luggage."

Justin chuckled wryly. "My own personal Boy Scout."

Brian grinned. "Always prepared; that's me."

Justin reached over to brush some hair out of his lover's eyes, gazing thoughtfully into his face. He knew Brian hated such sentimentality, but he couldn't help saying the words anyway. "I love you, you know," he murmured, as he lightly traced the brunet's strong jaw with the pads of his fingers as if he were memorizing him all over again. Brian seemed like some vulnerable little boy to him sometimes, and he was always in awe that such a strong, proud, and outwardly confident man could also be so unsure of himself at times when it came to love. But he _also_ knew that this man was one of the most generous and loving men he knew; only those who didn't know him so intimately would never realize that. But it wasn't important; HE knew, and that was all that mattered.

Brian caught the slim fingers and brought them up to his mouth, lightly kissing the knuckles. Continuing to grasp Justin's hand in his, he stared silently at him for several seconds as if he, too, were memorizing every beautiful feature before he simply stated, "Me, too."

Justin nodded as he, too, turned on his side to face him, scooting closer to press his body into Brian's, and placing his left hand palm down on his lover's chest as Brian wrapped his arm around him. Legs tangling together, the couple slowly drifted off to sleep.

* * *

_Six Months Later..._

"Some things never change."

"Hey; say that one more time, and I'll quit bringing you tokens of appreciation."

Sylvia grinned as Justin held out the familiar, brown bag from the local deli. "No, you won't. I have you too well-trained."

He harrumphed. "What AM I? A trained monkey?" he groused good-naturedly.

She laughed. "Well, you're an _adorable_ trained monkey."

Justin rolled his eyes as he handed the bag over to her. "Thanks...I think."

She grinned, emitting an appreciative 'mmm' sound as she unwrapped the pastrami sandwich and took a big bite out of it. "You know, I'm going to miss this," she commented as soon as she swallowed. "And _you."_

Justin smiled. "You, too," she told her sincerely. "I would never have gotten as far as I have without all your help." He reached over to bestow a quick peck on her cheek.

"Well, don't you forget that I get first dibs on ALL your paintings, fella."

He laughed. "You won't LET me forget. Let's see - that's how many times now? Seven, eight?"

"Damn straight I won't," she quipped. "Got everything packed?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I really didn't have all that much, once I sold the furnishings to the new guy moving in. He was more than happy to take the furniture off my hands - just so he didn't have to lug anything up five flights of stairs."

She grinned. "That would definitely be an incentive." She paused. "Sure you don't want to let Brian know that this isn't just going to be a short trip home?"

Justin sighed. "Sylvia..."

"I know, I know. It's a surprise. But..." She hesitated.

Justin frowned. "What? You don't think he'll _like_ my surprise?"

"Of course I do," she assured him. "Are you kidding me? The man is crazy in love with you."

Justin blushed, pleased that someone else could see it as easily as he did. "And..?"

"I know you two love each other. And I know how badly you miss him when he's not here, or you're not there. And I know how proud he is of you; anyone who sees how he looks at you can readily see that.

"But...?"

"But that's why I'm _also_ wondering if he'll think you're making a mistake coming back home, and not being here in the biggest art capital of the world." She paused before admitting, "And I'm selfish. I don't want anyone else representing you. I want to be a part of your success, Justin, no matter _where _you are."

Justin initially opened his mouth to protest, but remained silent for now, conceding that she might have a point. It wasn't that he hadn't thought about that. He remembered all too well that one night they had spent at the loft before their now-cancelled wedding. The night that Brian had insisted he was avoiding heading to New York out of fear. The night that he had retorted in turn that fear had nothing to do with his decision. But in retrospect, he knew that Brian had been right, at least partially. While the idea of traveling to New York City to pursue his passion had been extremely exciting to consider, it had also scared the shit out of him. At the time, New York City had seemed like a gigantic hub of activity, some nameless metropolitan hive that might swallow him whole. After all, it hadn't been TOO long before that that he had been scared of even walking down a street in the Pitts.

But he had finally accepted Brian's challenge - had finally stretched his capabilities and pushed down his apprehension- and he HAD come here, with no certain expectations, but with a lot of hopes and dreams. And to a certain extent, a lot of them had been fulfilled. He was finally attracting some notice among the art critics, and had developed a small but loyal and avid following of his works, so much so that he had decided a few months ago to cut back on his hours at the museum's gift shop to devote more time to his work here in the studio. And yes, he could stay here, and possibly grow both in popularity as well as raise his name recognition even more. But in this day and age, technology was almost an instant transport to another place, anywhere in the world. And he had finally decided that his biggest passion - and his heart - lay hundreds of miles away in Pittsburgh. It was a risk, he knew, to go back there and continue to work toward his dream; at least THIS dream. But ultimately he had decided it was worth it for what he would gain.

"You will be," he assured her as he returned to the present. "I'll be back here anytime it's necessary. But I'm just...I'm ready to go home, Sylvia. Go home to an amazing house. And go home to an amazing man."

She nodded in understanding. "I know how much you miss him. If I were separated that much from Philippe..."

Justin smiled. "Well, _Philippe_ might actually be happy to see me go," he replied dryly, remembering his and Philippe's misunderstanding over the flowers several months ago.

Sylvia chuckled. "Well, he might be safer, anyway." She eyed her young friend affectionately as she reached over to squeeze his shoulder. "When are you leaving for the airport?" she asked, resigned to her fate. She watched as Justin's eyes sparkled, and his face lit up at the prospect; it was then that she knew this was the right decision for him.

"In about an hour," he told her. "I just came to say goodbye."

"And you can hardly wait, too," she commented with a smile.

He nodded. "Yeah. My stomach is tied up in knots just at the prospect. But it's a good feeling," he assured her as she nodded. It had been a month since he had seen Brian, had felt his arms surrounding him, had felt his lips upon his; a month since he had smelled his masculine, unique scent, and been taken to the mind-blowing height of passion that only Brian could deliver. But soon he would never be without his partner again.

"I'm going to miss you, Justin Taylor," she declared as she impulsively pulled him forward into a firm embrace. "And Brian is a very lucky man," she whispered in his ear before pulling back.

"_I'm_ the lucky one," Justin affirmed with a smile.

"Anytime two people can find their soulmates, they're_ both _lucky."

Justin nodded. "I'd better go. But call me if you need me, and I'll be here." He turned to head toward the door, stopping for a moment to turn around. "Sylvia?"

"Yes?"

"Don't call me for at least a month, though."

Sylvia chuckled, knowing what he meant. The two lovers would want to get 'reacquainted' again. "I promise," she told him. "Take care, Honey."

He nodded, and with a smile opened the door and disappeared. Sylvia stood there for a short while, feeling like a breath of spring had just departed, before she walked around the counter and sat down to commence with her work for the day, knowing things would never quite be the same.


	4. The Final Flower

_Justin has a surprise for his partner upon his return home; Brian presents Justin with his last flower. _

**oOo**

_Later that Afternoon..._

As the small, private jet slowly came to a stop on the tarmac and Justin peered out the window, he had to admit that flying this way definitely had its advantages. One was being able to land at a smaller, municipal airport away from all the bustling activity at the larger international airport, as well as flying in more comfort with only a few other passengers, all Kinnetik employees who were returning from a business trip to the Big Apple. He even knew a few of them, some of whom politely acknowledged him - knowing his relationship to Brian - but also kept an unobtrusive distance from him on the relatively short flight back to Pittsburgh. Yes, there was a distinct perk to having a partner who owned his own mode of sleek transportation.

But the main benefit was being able to see his partner standing by the glass panels of the lone terminal, waiting for him when the jet taxied up. As he peered through the jet's window, he couldn't help smiling as his eyes honed in on his lover; he noticed Brian's handsome face relaxing as he gave him a slightly crooked smile of acknowledgment in return, his tall frame perfectly silhouetted in the tailored, black suit he was wearing. It made Justin feel so special that his partner would take time out of his work day at Kinnetik to come out and greet him, and he couldn't wait to be held in his arms again.

Waiting impatiently a few minutes later for everyone to retrieve their luggage from the overhead bins, he walked hurriedly with his overnight bag slung over his shoulder toward the gateway. Descending onto the tarmac along with the others, he headed toward the door leading him into the terminal where Brian and a few others were waiting for their loved ones to return.

He noticed as he emerged from the doorway that Brian was hanging back slightly, away from the small crowd, but from the moment he emerged the hazel eyes were fixed upon his every step. His heart immediately accelerated as he hurried over as quickly as he could to his partner, his warm smile promptly turning him into mush.

As soon as Justin was within reaching distance, Brian closed the remainder of the gap by sweeping him into his arms as Justin sighed with pleasure; finally, it felt like home. It _always_ felt like home whenever he was held in Brian's arms. But to know that he would now be able to wake up each morning with the man he loved, and go to sleep nestled against his warm, familiar body filled him with joy. They stood there embracing as the others exited the waiting room, oblivious to anyone else, until finally they pulled back to gaze into each other's faces.

"What? No flowers?" Justin asked at last with a teasing smile.

Brian shrugged, rolling his lips under and belying his serious expression. "Sorry, Sunshine; too much trouble getting them through security."

Justin nodded solemnly. "I see. I come back home, and the flowers immediately stop." He sighed melodramatically. "Well, I guess I should have sent YOU _Forget-me-nots_, then." He grinned to let Brian know he was being facetious; the flowers had been wonderful (at least after he figured out who had been sending them), but being here with Brian right now was more important than any romantic gesture could ever be. He was expecting an answering snort in response, but instead his partner stared at him intensely; so much so that Justin wondered if he had said something wrong.

Brian peered into the beautiful face he knew so well for a few moments before he softly replied, "You've always been unforgettable to _me_, Sunshine." Before his partner could commence with his 'allergies' - and Brian could see the blue eyes watering with the telltale signs of a pending outbreak - he released him to tug on his wrist. "Let's get going," he suggested as he began to pull him toward the escalator heading down to street level. He did not want to waste one second of their time together.

But Justin surprised him when he shook his head and replied, "Can't. We have to stop at baggage claim first."

Brian chuckled. "For a week? You normally wear the same pair of Chino's two days in a row. What could you possibly have down at baggage claim that you couldn't fit in that god awful duffel bag to last for a week?" Justin still had the ratty, horrid bag he had toted from place to place for years, ever since his father had unceremoniously kicked him out of the house. It was torn in spots and faded, but it _did_ have ample room in it, and Justin seemed to have some odd, sentimental attachment to it for some reason. "I know!" Brian exclaimed. "We need to retrieve a pet."

Justin appeared shocked as he played along. "Fuck, how did you know?" He saw Brian gape at him in reaction; as much as he might actually _like_ having a pet to keep him company, he knew his time was much too limited to devote proper attention to one, and most of all, Brian would be aghast at the thought. Of course, that was what made it all the more enjoyable to tease him about it, though.

"Justin..." came the warning.

Justin hefted his bag onto his shoulder, one hand resting on his hip. "I'm kidding, Brian! Now do you want to stand here, wasting time, or go get the rest of my things so we can head back to your place and _really _get reacquainted?"

Brian sighed in relief. "Asshole," he grumbled good-naturedly. "Okay; let's go pick up Fifi, and then we can get to know each other again in the biblical sense."

Justin rolled his eyes and grinned back at him as Brian's hand released his wrist to intertwine their hands together before they proceeded toward the escalator.

* * *

A few minutes later, the two men stood next to the small baggage carousel with a few other passengers from some other flights, watching as the luggage began to emerge from below. It didn't take long for Justin to point out two nondescript, plain boxes taped shut that soon appeared on the conveyor belt. "There they are," he told Brian. One box was a medium-sized, square shape, while the other one was wide and flat; Brian assumed that one must contain art supplies, even though he couldn't for the life of him figure out why Justin had brought them with him. He had plenty of supplies back at Britin to use. Besides, Brian had no intention of his partner squirreling himself away in his studio while they were together; he got to see him far too little as it was, and he was determined to make the most of their time.

"Grab that," Justin told him, as the flat box approached where they were standing. Tongue firmly in cheek, Brian reached over to squeeze a certain part of Justin's anatomy, evoking a sudden squeak from his lover, who promptly blushed a deep red as everyone nearby turned to see what had startled him. "Brian!" he hissed under his breath as he snatched his wandering hand away, remembering a similar time several years ago when they were at Debbie's, right after he had obtained permission to return to PIFA. "Behave!" he admonished him, unable to keep a half-smile off his face as Brian grinned back at him impishly.

Sighing in disappointment, his partner reached for the flatter of the two boxes as Justin retrieved the square one from the carousel. Adjusting the weight of the overnight bag on his shoulder, Justin nodded. "That's all of it." It didn't escape his notice how his entire life in New York City had been contained within these two boxes and the overnight bag; at least, the important things. But the MOST important part was the man standing next to him, frowning over the heavy weight of the box in his hands and the awkward shape.

"Justin, what is IN this? Please don't tell me it's art supplies," Brian pleaded, leaning closer so only his lover could hear, "...because I have no intention of sharing you with any other hobby except me this week. You'll be lucky to even get out of bed."

Justin laughed softly as he replied, "Brian, I'll need to at least use the bathroom and eat while I'm here."

"Bathroom for showers - with the two of us - and to piss, yes," Brian agreed. "We'll order takeout deliveries for the food; end of problem."

They began to walk toward the exit now as Justin chuckled. "I expect our friends, Debbie, and my mom may want to see me, too."

"They can watch."

Justin giggled. "Well, that should make for some interesting conversation," he agreed. "But I don't think that will go over too well with my mom and Debbie. Although they've both seen it over and over by now, I think they would prefer I visit them in more of a vertical position." There had been numerous occasions where both women had interrupted them before in a 'compromising position.' And they had never made any secret of their sexual shenanigans in the back room at Babylon, or in Brian's private office at Kinnetik.

"So I'll fuck you on the steps going up to the second floor; that should be hot. I don't think we've tried doing it there yet. And there's always the dining room table, since we won't be using it to eat."

Justin's face grew hot as thoughts of him and Brian christening Britin on practically every surface of the home swirled through his mind. The day after Brian had proposed, he had worn him out that morning as they had discovered the best places to satisfy their sexual appetites, learning that Britin - with its angled furniture, soft, plush rugs, stables, pool, and tennis courts, provided them will all sorts of kinks for their pleasure. He shook his head as Brian grinned. "Nice try," he murmured as they reached Brian's company vehicle - a medium-sized SUV used on Kinnetik business; his partner had fortunately chose that over his 'Vette, which would have posed a storage problem.

As they put the boxes into the back of the vehicle and slid inside, Brian glanced over at his partner, pausing for a few seconds to admire his beauty. Even now, even after all these years, Justin did something to his emotions that no one else ever had. Whether that was another name for love, he wasn't sure. He DID love him - deeply, truly, and irrevocably - and this man was the perfect match for him, physically and mentally. He would always be grateful that they had met that fateful night so many years ago. _Where had the time gone?_ He wondered.

"Brian? You okay?" Justin asked softly as he latched his seatbelt, noticing the odd look on his lover's face.

Brian blinked, seemingly coming out of a trance as he nodded with a reassuring smile, focusing once more on his partner. "I'm fine," he told him. "I'm...just glad that you're back home, at least temporarily." He paused before inquiring quietly, "Justin, it IS home to you...isn't it?"

Justin reached over to lightly cup Brian's cheek with his hand, stroking the slightly rough skin as he replied, "Of course it is. This will always be my home. And you will always have my heart." He caressed Brian's jaw briefly before smiling softly at him and reaching over to squeeze his leg.

Brian nodded, satisfied, as he turned to start the SUV.

"Wait...Brian..."

Brian turned to peer over at his partner, arching an eyebrow questioningly as Justin stated, "There's something I need you to know."

_Oh, boy_, Brian couldn't help thinking. _Here it comes. He's going to head somewhere else now; somewhere where his career can progress even more rapidly than it already has. Will it be overseas? Somewhere that will severely limit our time together, even more than it already has? Well_, he decided, _wherever it is, I will support him, because I want him to succeed and be happy. _"Okay," he finally replied simply as he gazed over at him with apprehension.

Justin took a deep breath. This wasn't the most appropriate of places to tell Brian about such an important decision, but at least they were alone. And he could no longer hold back from telling him. He had to know what his reaction would be, and he was way too excited to keep it inside any longer. "Those boxes I brought home with me?"

Brian nodded.

"Well, they weren't just for my trip back here for the week." He took another deep breath. "I sold most of my furnishings that I had in my apartment," he revealed. "Those two boxes are pretty much all I have left now."

Brian swallowed hard. _So he WAS moving somewhere else. _"So where are you moving to?" he asked quietly, hoping it might at least be in the same time zone.

Justin frowned. "Nowhere." He hid a smile, then, as he realized why Brian had asked him that. He must think he is moving somewhere else for his art. "Well, that's not exactly true," he added with an enigmatic smile, deciding to play along just a little.

Brian stared over at him in dread, his impatience and anxiety growing with each second. "Justin, just fucking _tell _me!" he finally growled, rubbing his hand over his face in exasperation. "Where are you going _now?_" Did it really matter where, though? Anywhere was too far away for him.

Justin quietly unlatched his seatbelt and scooted closer to his partner, squeezing his thigh. He could see the anxiety written all over his face, so perhaps now was not the time to be joking. "Brian...that's what I'm trying to tell you. I _am _moving; but I'm moving back home. Back home to _you_, to _us._ Sylvia still wants to represent me; hell, she practically begged me to keep her as my agent! And I'll still need to take trips back to New York City whenever there are exhibitions at the gallery, and I've assured her that I won't have any problem with that. But there's no reason, especially in this day and age, why I can't conduct a lot of my business over the web. If I have to take quick trips back to the city, also, it's fine. What's important, though, is that that's exactly what it _will_ be: short, temporary trips, just to take care of business."

Justin paused, peering over thoughtfully at his partner. Brian was facing forward, staring out at the parking lot, and hadn't said a word during his entire explanation. Was he disappointed in his decision? Did he think he was making a big mistake coming back home? "Brian...this is right for me. It's time. I don't _want _to keep commuting back and forth between here and New York City. This is where my mom and sister live, and where all my friends are. This is my home, Brian; _you're _my home. It's time to come back to where I really belong." He observed his partner purse his lips together then, his hands still firmly on the steering wheel. "Brian, please...say _something_. Say I'm a fucking idiot to be doing this. Say I'm making a bad decision. Say _something_! But I want you to know - I'm NOT going to change my mind. I'm here to stay, whether you agree or not." Justin bit his lower lip anxiously before he added in a whisper, "And I want to live at Britin with you...if you'll still have me, and if that's what you want, too."

At last, Brian turned his head to peer over at him, his eyes dark and intense. Had he heard all that correctly? Was Justin actually coming home for good? No more back-and-forth, hurried dalliances between them, a few days at a time? No more jerking off through the computer, only imagining what it felt like to be holding him, loving him, touching him? No more days of loneliness, craving his skin, his mouth, his voice? Could he really drift off to sleep, sated and contented after a lusty round of fucking, legs and arms tangled together? And would Justin be there every morning now, as the first rays of sunlight streamed in through the majestic, tall windows? He wet his lips, his voice sounding hoarse as he replied, "You really do mean that? You want to come back here to live?"

Justin smiled as he reached to clasp Brian's hand, finding it tightly held in return, almost as if Brian were trying to ensure he really was here. "Yes," he told him firmly with a smile. "I can't think of anything I want more; unless you can somehow arrange to have some of my work displayed at MOMA, too."

Relaxing now, Brian stared into his eyes before he smiled. "It will be one day," he answered him. "And I want to be there when it happens. I can tell everyone I knew you when."

Justin grinned. "When I was a stalker who wouldn't go away? Or when I was being stalked by some flower-obsessed fan?"

"No," Brian whispered with a half-smile of his own, his heart swelling over the news that one of his most fervent desires was about to come true. Tomorrow - and every day going forward now - when he woke up, he knew Justin would be there with him. And every night he would also be the last image he saw before slumber overtook him. He had long realized that being with Justin was a lot more than just physical attraction. Certainly, that had never wavered. But their relationship had progressed to something a great deal deeper than that. To be able to nurture it - and to be able to be together permanently again - was something he could have only dreamed of before. Now, however, it was going to be a reality.

He shook his head as he realized Justin was expecting a response. "No...I'll tell them I knew you when you were this amazingly courageous man who let nothing or no one get in his way of acquiring his dreams and remaining true to his convictions. And I'll tell them how he managed to capture the heart of someone who didn't even know how to truly love until he showed him how." He pursed his lips together, always feeling a bit exposed when he expressed his emotions aloud. Only Justin and his son could encourage him to say such sentiments, but that only proved how deep his love was for them.

Justin shook his head. "No, Brian," he corrected him softly. "You always felt love all along. You showed it every day; you STILL show those you love how much you care about them. I just maybe allowed you to be more open about it."

Brian nodded as he turned to place his other hand under Justin's chin. "I'll accept that," he agreed with a soft smile as he leaned in to sample the soft lips he would never stop craving.

"So you're okay with my decision?" Justin pressed him as they pulled back. "Because either way, it doesn't really matter. I'm staying here regardless."

Brian slowly caressed his lover's jaw as he grinned. "You always _were_ a persistent, stubborn little shit, weren't you? In everything you do."

"When it comes to things - and people - that I care about, you're damn right I am. Now can we get going? I have some unpacking to do, and a mother who will be knocking on our doorstep if I don't go see her sometime today."

"Yes, Sir," Brian dutifully replied in amusement as he started the vehicle and put it in gear. "Does Jennifer know you are back home to stay?" he asked as Justin reattached his seatbelt.

Justin nodded. "Yeah, I thought it best to just go ahead and let her know beforehand. I talked to her last night. I figured that way, she could take care of telling everyone else, and I won't have to."

Brian chuckled knowingly. "You mean by virtue of DT&amp;T...Debbie Telephone and Telegraph." He slowly backed the SUV out of the parking space, and proceeded toward the pay booth to exit.

Justin smiled. "Exactly."

"Well, then, that part is taken care of. So now all we have to do is head out to Britin...get your stuff unpacked - and then I'll be in charge of unpacking _you." _

* * *

_One Year Later...Justin's Birthday - 7 a.m._

The sunlight was flooding into their bedroom as Brian slowly opened his eyes. Normally he would have felt chilled in the cavernous room at this time of year, because invariably he would kick his sheet and duvet away during the night. At the moment, though, he felt incredibly warm and snug, due in large part to his partner's slender frame snuggled against his, Justin's leg hooked over his lower body, almost as if he were afraid he might try to escape during the night. He smiled as he gazed down at the familiar, blond head, his arm tightening slightly around his lover's shoulder. He couldn't think of a more perfect way to wake up in the morning, and he had been enjoying this wake-up method for several months now. He hadn't even realized how much he had missed this until Justin had returned from New York City. Just to wake up each morning holding Justin in his arms automatically meant that no matter how shitty the rest of the day might wind up being, he knew it would start out incredibly well, and end in much the same way.

He leaned his head down just enough to kiss the soft strands of hair on top of Justin's head, regretting that he had to leave his embrace, especially on his birthday. But an important client had insisted on a meeting today while he was in town for the week, and Brian wanted to handle it personally. For now, then, he would have to make do with a little 'celebrating' until later, when he planned to take his partner out for dinner for a more traditional recognition of his birthday. He had been lying to Justin - and to himself - all along those many years ago when he had proclaimed that he didn't think just being born on a particular day was anything to really commemorate. He may have felt that way before, but when his beloved son was born - and when he met Justin the same day - he realized that birthdays could be a very special event. Now, he wouldn't think of not recognizing both of their birthdays; the son he loved so deeply, and the man he could not ever envision being without.

Gently nudging Justin's leg so it was no longer tangled with his, he twisted his body to drape himself on top of his partner, his arms braced to either side of his lover as he peppered light kisses, licks, and nips along the pale neck cord. He heard Justin sigh as he stirred, the signs of a smile beginning to form on his face as he realized he was getting his favorite wakeup call.

Brian smiled in return as he softly kissed the warm lips. "Wake up, Birthday Boy," he murmured, his breath ghosting across Justin's cheek. He could feel Justin's desire ramping up between them as his own cock began to do the same; he groaned as they rubbed together and his desire grew.

Kissing both eyelids, Brian pulled back enough to witness the golden eyelashes flutter open, and a pair of expressive, blue eyes slowly appear. Justin's smile grew wider as he at last gazed into his partner's loving face, and he registered what Brian had whispered to him. "Best birthday ever already," he whispered back. It didn't matter how little or how much he and Brian did today to commemorate the occasion; just being back home and waking up in his arms each morning was like having every previous birthday rolled into one.

"You're so easy," Brian teased back, his voice low and smooth as silk. His hand slid, palm down, to the middle of Justin's chest, making his partner shiver in reaction, before it reached its desired target. He heard Justin gasp as he curled his hand around the base of his hot shaft, feeling it throbbing under his ministrations. "I see you're fully awake now." He licked his lips and smiled at the expression on his lover's face, knowing that his hand was having its desired effect, as he felt the organ expand under his touch. "I guess we can start with the proper birthday blowjob first," he decided, as he slid his body downward until he could briefly inhale the unique, enticing scent of Justin's skin; attribute it or not to good old pheromones, perhaps, but an aroused, sweaty Justin always seemed to smell a little differently than 'artist' or 'cooking' Justin who was not in the throes of passion. No matter what role he might be playing at any given time, however, his partner always smelled so damn good. He was glad that they had not showered yet, for he had told the truth so many years ago - he would always prefer smelling his partner's skin to smelling his latest soap or shampoo. There was just something utterly intriguing and masculine, yet almost sweet in a way when it came to the way he smelled.

A loud moan escaped Justin's parted lips as Brian's hot, wet lips plastered themselves onto his cock, and his partner's tongue did some sort of crazy swirling motion; an action that always drove him crazy. "Ahh...Brian..." he loudly moaned. He could feel, rather than see, Brian's lips spreading farther apart into a smirk as he squeezed his eyes tightly shut and clenched one hand in the sheet to the side of him, while the other grabbed a thatch of soft, brown hair as he desperately tried to hold onto some sense of restraint. His need was much too great, however, and his desire way too strong to hold on for very long as Brian sped up his motions with his lips while one hand cupped his balls, the other gripping the base firmly with his fingers. After a few seconds, he made a type of vibration against his skin, sounding like an 'mmm' sound, and Justin was lost, erupting down his lover's throat as he cried out and arched off the bed, almost taking some strands of Brian's hair with him along the way. As his partner released him and took a few seconds to lap up any remnants of his come with his talented tongue, all Justin could do was lay there, sweaty, exhausted, sated, and completely and utterly content. His chest heaved up and down and his heart pounded like someone schussing down the steepest, snowy slope as Brian gave the tip of his cock one last, quick kiss before sliding back up so they were face-to-face.

Smiling lazily up at him, Brian couldn't help returning his smile as he brushed some sweaty hair back from his lover's face and pecked him playfully on the nose.

"The Birthday Boy wants a birthday fuck in the shower," Justin decided as he pulled Brian down by the back of the neck to kiss him deeply before pushing him off. "Now." He grinned as he slid off the mattress and tugged on Brian's wrist to join him.

Brian rolled his eyes and sighed. "Well, it'll be a hard job, but I think I'm up to the task, Mr. Taylor," he told him as he joined him by the side of the bed. "But we need to change things up just a bit," he added.

Justin raised an eyebrow in question. "We do?"

Brian nodded as he leaned in to whisper, "Birthday Boy's choice, just for today. Fuckee...or fucker."

Justin's smile was radiant with delight. This was definitely going to be a birthday to end all birthdays, even if it ended right here. "Can the Birthday Boy have both? I can be very selfish."

Brian grinned. "Selfishness does have its place." Taking a moment to tickle his partner's side, eliciting a round of giggles, he took advantage of Justin's temporary incapacitation to get a head start. "First one in the shower is the fucker!" he told him as he took off in a trot.

"Hey!" Hearing Brian's laughter ringing throughout the room, Justin laughed as he scampered after him.

* * *

_Later that Evening_

"I am SO stuffed!" Justin groaned as he stumbled into the family room and fell down onto the couch. "Why did I eat so much?"

Brian snickered as he sat down next to his partner. "Maybe because your eyes are a lot bigger than your stomach, Sunshine? I don't recall having to twist your arm to eat a second piece of tiramisu earlier."

"But it was so fucking good, Brian! You don't know what you missed!"

"An hour on the treadmill tomorrow for that? Yes, Mr. Taylor, I know exactly what I missed. I don't have the same metabolic rate as you. Just you wait, though; one day Mother Nature will catch up with you, and you'll be some old man with a pot belly from all the desserts and beer you've drunk, and you'll be sitting in a rocking chair on the front porch, holding binoculars in one hand as you watch people go about their business all day, and a fly swatter in the other."

Justin stared over at him before he burst out laughing. "What? Fuck you, Kinney!" He punched Brian in the arm as his partner grinned back at him. He smiled as he leaned his head over to rest against Brian's shoulder and simply whispered, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For indulging my more sentimental side today. For making this one of the best birthdays I ever had. For..." He felt his voice breaking as he added, "For being the best partner a man could ever have. For loving me."

Brian was about to reply with some snarky remark of his own, but suddenly found that he couldn't do it. "Ditto, Sunshine," he murmured instead as he played with the top of Justin's hair before reaching down to take his hand in his. He stared down at their clasped hands, silently thinking about how grateful he was to have Justin back home with him, and just how incredibly happy he was; how he could live this way for the rest of his life.

"This is nice," Justin whispered as he snuggled closer and closed his eyes, breathing in Brian's cologne. He would never be able to go anywhere without associating the expensive fragrance with anyone but him.

"Well, I guess you don't need my last surprise, then," Brian murmured unexpectedly, chuckling as his partner's eyes immediately popped open and he quickly raised his head to peer over at him like an eager, little boy.

"What surprise?" he asked, his eyes alight with excitement. "Tell me!"

Brian shrugged. "I was just joking. Hey, cut it out!" he exclaimed a few seconds later when Justin promptly launched himself on top of his partner and began tickling him. He squirmed, trying to throw his partner off, but he was surprisingly strong as he continued his attack.

"Tell me where it is!" He demanded as Brian laughed, vainly holding up his hands in defense to try and ward him off.

"Okay, okay!" his partner finally acquiesced, pulling Justin's head down for a toe-curling kiss; it seemed to be the only way to take his mind off torturing him. Releasing his breathless partner several seconds later, he grinned at the dazed look on his face as he informed him, "It's inside the piano."

Justin punched his arm and laughed. "You fucker! I would never look there!" When Brian had purchased Britin, some of the furniture - along with a baby grand piano - had been included, even though neither of them played; well, Justin knew how to play chopsticks from his childhood - to Brian's consternation - but at least for the time being, it was more for other guests to enjoy.

Brian smiled as if he were proud of himself. "I know."

Justin scrambled off his lap to quickly head over to the white instrument, lifting the lid of the piano to retrieve a small, square box before carefully closing the heavy top and returning to sit by Brian's side. His partner watched silently as Justin carefully slid the silver ribbon away from the white box and, setting the ribbon aside - no doubt to wind up in some sort of memento box or scrapbook later - he carefully lifted the lid to peer inside. He smiled as he lifted the object up to get a better look at it. "I see you found one more," he told his partner as he held up the lone, yellow rose and sprig of baby's breath,bringing it up to his nose to inhale the sweet scent.

"But I'm a little old to be going to some dance, aren't I?" For an instant, Justin regretted his statement, as he noticed a glimmer of pain on Brian's face; no doubt from another time when they had danced. A time that he desperately wished he could remember, but sadly assumed he never would.

Brian recovered quickly, however, as he explained, "It's not for a dance, Justin."

His partner frowned. "But it's a boutonnière. What else would it be for?" He chuckled. "Was I supposed to wear it to dinner earlier with my cotton shirt and jeans? If I was, you're about two hours - and two tiramisus - too late." Dinner at the Italian restaurant had been distinctly casual, which had been fine with him. He didn't need some ostentatious, five-star restaurant to celebrate his birthday; all he needed was the man presently sitting next to him.

Brian paused for a second before he replied, "Well, you can also wear it with a tux to celebrate _other_ occasions. Like...weddings," he added quietly.

Justin frowned. "Someone we know is getting married?"

Brian smiled at his question. "Maybe. That depends."

"Maybe?" he took another whiff of the delicate fragrance as he admired the single flower's beauty and symmetry, taking a moment to marvel at how amazing nature could be.

Brian sighed as he took Justin's other hand in his, his thumb slowly caressing his skin; the mere sensation made Justin's body tingle and his pulse race. "You know...for someone who is so intelligent, Mr. Taylor, you can sometimes be really dense." He waited a few seconds, watching Justin's face until he could tell he finally knew what he was trying to say.

"Brian?" his partner asked, his mouth agape in shock as his eyes widened in comprehension. "You're not...You don't...This isn't for..." For once, he was less than eloquent to the point of being nearly speechless. Surely Brian didn't mean what he was thinking he meant. His gaze rapidly shifted back and forth from the flower to Brian's face. He refused to believe it. He was simply jumping to conclusions. He took a deep breath. "Never mind," he muttered. He laughed at himself. "I think I might have a new superhero companion for Rage now - _The Babbler_." He tried to rise to his feet, suddenly feeling ridiculous, but Brian's grip on his wrist stopped him.

"Justin..."

The quiet tone of his partner's voice caused Justin to sit back down and slowly turn his face to peer over at him. He swallowed hard. Was this really happening? He had dreamed of this day - of getting another chance one day - but he had never really believed it would ever occur.

Gently extracting the boutonniere from his partner's hand and placing it down beside him on the couch, Brian reached to take both of Justin's hands in his as he turned his body so their knees were touching. His heart was thumping in his chest. This was so foreign to him, even now. When he had first proposed to Justin in that shithole of an apartment Justin had called a home, he had to admit Justin had at least been partially right; at the time, he had done it somewhat out of fear. Fear of what might happen in the future, and fear of what could have been - that Justin could have been one of those killed or seriously hurt. The mere idea of that had made him extremely fearful, and at the time he didn't want to waste one more moment letting this special man know just how deeply he loved him; how he couldn't survive without him. When he had been rebuffed, he had still persisted, and proposed to Justin again - here in front of the fireplace in this same room - where he had made sure to show with his actions as well as his words how sincere he was. They had almost made it that time, too. Almost.

In hindsight, however, Justin had been right. It had not been the right time for either of them. But now...now he knew it was. He knew this was his soul mate, and the person he wanted to spend every day with. The person he wanted to share his hopes, his dreams, his fears, his sorrows, and his joy with. Now, all he had to do was convince Justin of that.

"Justin, you know exactly what I mean." He half-smiled as he added, "Just don't expect me to get down on my fucking knees to do it."

His lover's eyes grew even wider, and his hands trembled beneath the larger, stronger ones gripping his gently but firmly. There was no doubt now what Brian was trying to say. "Brian...I...I don't need you to..."

"I know you don't," his partner replied. "But I'm no longer afraid of the 'Big C,' Justin. And it's not cancer this time."

"But I'm happy, Brian. I told you before...I know you love me, and you know I love you. I'm so fucking happy here - with you. A piece of paper or rings won't change that."

"No, they won't," Brian agreed as he stared into the fathomless, blue eyes; the eyes that held so much emotion and love in them. "But that's not really the point, is it? Needing it - and wanting it - can be two very different things. And I _know_ you, Justin Taylor. I know you better sometimes than I know myself. And I know you want that confirmation in front of our family and friends. You want to share our happiness with them. And so do I." He curled his lips under, determined to convince this man that he wanted the same. "Yeah, I could do without the outward, hetero signs of commitment. But God forbid, if anything should happen to me...I want there to be no question about where everything goes, or who makes the decisions for me." He sucked in a deep breath before letting it out. "Rest assured, though...If something should ever happen to _you_...whether there was a piece of paper or not, nothing would stop me from being there with you every step of the way. But making it all legal would mean there was no question about it."

"I know what you're saying, Brian. I would be there, too; you know that. But that isn't enough to get married! We can sign legal papers for that."

"Maybe. Maybe not. Even with all the changes in the past few years, there's always going to be some loopholes. I want to avoid that. Justin, you need to understand. There's more to this than that. I...I don't mind anymore, Sunshine. You already had me anyway; this is just an outward sign of it. I don't mind the idea of wearing a ring, _your _ring, anymore." He smiled a crooked smile as he explained. "As long as it's in good taste. And fortunately for YOU, I have excellent taste...in jewelry, _and_ in husband material."

Justin had to grin at that; so typically Brian, and one of the reasons why he loved him so dearly. "I'm flattered," he murmured as his partner smiled back at him. His smile faded a little into uncertainty as he asked, "Brian, are you sure? Absolutely sure about this? I'm not going anywhere, whether we're partners...or anything else."

"You're damn straight you're not," his lover growled, making Justin's face warm over the possessive tone of his partner's voice. "I won't _let_ you go," he added more softly.

Justin blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. "I won't let you go, either."

Brian waited anxiously for several seconds before he couldn't stay silent any longer. "So what's it going to be, Sunshine? Here, Hawaii, Babylon, the diner? Even the fucking justice of the peace; I don't care. Just say it." He arched one eyebrow expectantly.

Justin licked his lips. He believed it. He believed that Brian was being sincere and honest. Well, it was time for him to do the same. The thought of being this incredible man's _husband_ filled him with boundless joy. He finally nodded before a radiant smile broke out on his face. Squeezing Brian's right hand, he simply replied, "Yes. And I don't care where. _Anywhere_."

Brian's face relaxed as he squeezed his hand back. "But you want our family and friends there."

Justin nodded. "Yes."

Brian smiled. "Consider it done, then." He let go of Justin's hands as he fished inside his jeans pocket to retrieve something. Grasping it firmly, he turned his hand, palm up, to display a simple but elegant titanium band with one brilliant diamond in the center. It was not the ring that Justin remembered from before, but it was still stunning.

Now a couple of tears did fall as Justin whispered, "Brian...it's beautiful."

Brian shyly curled his lips under as he replied - unable to help himself, "Not as beautiful as _you_." Grasping Justin's right hand in his, he slid the band onto his ring finger; it was a perfect fit. Gazing up into his partner's face, he surprised Justin by explaining, "This is not your wedding ring. This is your engagement ring to let everyone else know you are officially off the market, Mr. Taylor."

Justin flushed with pleasure as he admired how the ring gleamed under the light, turning his hand slightly so he could admire how it reflected like a multi-hued prism. "It's...I love it," he murmured, his heart swelling with joy.

"When we DO get married," Brian advised him, "...I have the rings. The same rings as before. You just name the place and the day. And I'll make sure someone's there to marry you. Someone hot."

Justin grinned in amusement. "Well, whoever it is, make sure he's as hot as you, okay?" What Brian just said about the rings finally registered as he asked, "You've kept them? The same rings as before? You never DID return them? Even after I left?"

Brian shook his head. "No," he whispered, feeling a little uncomfortable and vulnerable. He took a deep breath to steady himself as he explained, "I didn't have the heart to. Whether we ever made it legal or not, I guess I still hoped that one day we would be wearing them. Somehow I think I knew, even back then." He shook his head in amusement and smiled as he reached to gently brush the tears away from his partner's cheeks. "You always were such a damn, sentimental twat," he chided him as his hand slid around to grip the back of Justin's neck. "And I wouldn't have you any other way." He paused for a moment as Justin's eyes lifted to meet his. "Fuck, I love you," he blurted out before he lost his nerve. The beaming smile that broke out then on his partner's - now fiancé's - face was worth any uneasiness he continued to feel whenever he was so verbal about his feelings.

"I love you, too, Brian Kinney," was the fervent reply as they kissed deeply, their hands sliding around each other's backs to pull their bodies closer together, the yellow rose - lying beside them -temporarily forgotten.


End file.
